Who Let Lester Out of Her Cage? Akimbo

Where am I? I don't need this fur - throw it on the floor! Now, look at all this skin darling, look at all of this lavender draped skin. You just can't handle it. I can't even look at it in this headpiece Gaga borrowed from me last week. Oh well, I'll just give them so leg...

Honestly...

I've been over Baptiste Giabiconi for a while. I get it, you're fucking Karl Lagerfeld, join the club.
But here she is giving her best Gaga drag and my interest is suddenly reawakened.

Sure, he looks a little (uncharacteristically) mannish, but no more so than the genuine article.
Other icons filtered through the Giabiconi lens include Prince, Jim Morrison and 50 Cent.

Again, in drag.

Why not? Strip him down and leave him for dead in 1971.

I love his commitment in donning drag for Gaga and wish he had shown similar commitment for Fiddy. As we all know, black face is always hilarious.

Anatranny of a Murder...

Well, after crawling back from the brink of death after gagging over 'Telephone' -- and subsequently scarfing up death's poisoned sandwiches by watching and re-watching it in all its nearly 10 minute glory -- I'm finally at a place (drunk) to talk about it.

The lesbian theme starts off strong and disturbingly muscular...

Cooter -- thanks, but no thanks. She might not have a dick NOW, but sex reassignment surgery has come a long way. I'm just sayin'...

Yes, that is smoke. Yes, this is also where I began to have heart palpitations from all the fierceness.

This big black bitch might be my favorite moment, well...ever. Here she is owning the world in an all too brief moment.

Give it a Mugler stutter step...

B makes her first appearance, breaking Gags out of jail. You know what they say, once you kill a cow...you gotta eat some fish.

B clearly getting ready to stick her face betwixt Gaga's legs. What would Hova think of all this?

Beyonce couldn't give less of a shit, because she's going full on dyke and Mr. Carter-Knowles be damned.

Call her mellow yellow. B goes to meet Tyrese, who is apparently still alive...? Though not for long...

"Sometimes I feel like I live in Grand Central Stay-SHUN. " That's it. ACT! Throw an Oscar in this face.

A pussy sandwich? Meanwhile, I love the queens turning it in the kitchen while the Lady poses in what has to be the must-have accessory of 2010. Call all you want, but you're not gonna get my telephone hat.

I know this is Gaga's song and video, but B blatantly steals the show. That face. That wig. That jacket. Those thighs. I think we've just been introduced to Gaga Fierce.

Speaking of epic (read: tranny) faces...

By the way, this recipe is my diet for the next 5 months as I prepare to enter a speedo, as being dead will be the only way it'll happen.

Hot cakes and hamhocks, anyone? Hold that thought, I've got an incoming call. No, I don't want to switch my long distance carrier. This isn't even a real phone. Yes, I'll hold.

Oh you know, I'm just standing here, posing, nonchalant as usual, with this phone in my hair. Just a regular day in the Haus of Gaga.

After stealing her honey, that selfish motherfucker Tyrese got what was coming to him. He'll soon be back to singing for sodas on the bus.

And here we have the inevitable dance routine, amidst a sea of corpses.

Gaga bless America!

Blow-up Doll Beyonce, now available in Buxom Brunette and Sapphic Sasha.

Fosse.

Flanking their pussy wagon, Gaga and B give their all while looking impossibly fabulous. This is what pop music is all about. Not giving a shit.

They give one last pose for the cameras...

Before driving off into the sunset, a la Thelma and Louise, leaving a path of destruction and tranny heels in their wake. To be continued...? Let's hope so.

Dying of Antici...pation Akimbo

The wait is almost over. Ever since B admonished that her life resembled the commotion of Grand Central Station, the ladies of AnA have waited with bated breath for the video. After several delays, our pateince will (hopefully/no doubt) be handosmely rewarded.



Pray tell, will you be taking any calls tonight?

Doubtful it seems as I plan on dancing.

Oh hi...

Where am I?
Who's this blonde teenybopper next to me?
And why can't I feel my face?
What? What do you mean? It's when? 2010? The future! I made it!
Oh, hello, little girl. What's your name? Oh, that's cute. You remind me of a young...er me.
I hope I'm wearing something under this robe....let's check...guess not!
Meanwhile, what's in this tea cup?
Anygay, I guess we're doing something.
Take my hand, Cyndi. I've got a disco stick built for two waiting outside.

Can I Take Your Order Akimbo // Subtlety

Welcome to Cafe Gaga. Party of You?

Our specials today are hair phones, razor sunglasses, Beyonce references and our house specialty Baked Ziti by Elton John.

We're trembling in the AnA loft - and not because our recently fired intern Soon Yi left the windows open last night -- in anticipation of Gaga's new video with Beyonce!

A Fitting and Fitted Tribute

Red Carpet Rundown: The 2010 Grammys or Why the Music Industry is Doomed

Last night's Grammy show was the worst in history. And it started off so well, too. Gaga opened the show with yet another epic performance with her mother.

Then things quickly fell off.

B was amazing as usual, but disappointed by neglecting to have her army of male dancers put a ring on it.

Pink was incredible and death-defying, though much like me five minutes into the show, was not "Sober."

J.Huds and Celine belted out "Earth Song" in an all-too-brief tribute to MJ, also featuring Usher, the legendary Smokey Robinson and some country tart.

The one who didn't win Album of the Year. Also, any mention of the latter is strictly verboten on this blog.

And finally MJB melted my icy heart with a touching rendition of "Bridge Over Troubled Waters" with Andrea Bocelli. Who is apparently blind. Who knew?

Those were the only highlights in an otherwise dreadful show that proved once again that the Grammys are the least relevant awards show on the planet. Well, almost.

Anygay, onto the "fashion" of last night. Like the show, also a major disappointment, except for Gaga who is apparently the only person who gets it.

Here's the lady in Armani Privé. I wished upon this star that she'd walk away with an armload, but apparently wishes don't come true. Fuck you Disney. Meanwhile, Gags had 5 Armani Privé

outfits that we all missed out on thanks to some 20-year old talentless slut hogging all the trophies.

The event known as Celine Dion, looking flawless in someone I've never heard of. Aquilano.Rimondi. Anyone?

The red carpet look was, in a word, horrendous. B looks like she's wearing a carpet. And with the zipper down the front, come on, kids! Her show and performance outfits were far better, most likely because they were chosen by Sasha Fierce, who I wish would just take over and make all the decisions from now on.

Ciara in Givnechy Haute Couture, proving that this HC season was one of the more dismal in recent memory.

Coco Rocha in her own design. Okay.

Mr. Fierce in Tom Ford. The Knowles-Carters ran away with a ton of Grammys last night. Jay also got one for his collaboration with Rihanna. In other news, Rihanna was found with a stiletto through her heart earlier this morning.

Someone dug up J. Lo from ten years ago when people still cared about her and threw her in Versace. Perhaps hoping to reclaim some of that past glory? Here's a suggestion, dump the corpse you call a husband and focus on your career.

From J. Lo to J. Huds. She looks stunning and is working that post-baby body in Victoria Beckham. Also that China bang was the best hair of the night.

And from one bang to another. Katy Perry showed up in a shitty Zac Posen that revealed a bit too much side boob. Dolly and Ms. Streisand have all but given up on you, Zac. But I still hold out some hope.

Glee's Lea Michele looked great, opting for a short Romona Keveza dress and sultry hair. She looks like a Jersey girl out for a night of dancing, Long Islands and perhaps a BJ in the men's bath, i.e. perfect for the Grammys.

Pink channels early-00s Kylie in this Bob Mackie number that is basically all I ever want in an outfit.

On her way to the Oscars, Nikki Kids apparently got lost, but still looked Prada perfect.

I love how sluts get younger every year. Soon they'll be giving pregnancy tests in day care.

Grown-ass lady Mary J. Blige popping in fuschia and popping out a tad.

Now, I've never been a fan of Rihanna. I just don't believe her. She's like a blow-up doll Jay-Z likes to play with when B's on tour. But I kind of love this Elie Saab Haute Couture gown. Call me crazy. I hope this doesn't mean she's growing on me. If so, I'll need to visit the pharm ASAP to find the right ointment.